


The Scars That Bind

by FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Tension, Beginning of zombie apocalypse, Canon Divergent, Dumbledore Lives, Hippogriffs, Hogwarts, I have no idea where this is going but hey let's have fun!, Innocence, Potions, Potions Accident, Severus Snape Lives, Suggestive Themes, Suggestive Wand Usage, no relationships - Freeform, undead army
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN/pseuds/FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixon makes a return to Hogwarts requiring a favor from his former teacher.</p><p>#Snaryl, Snape and Daryl.  It could be a thing!</p><p>Tags will be updated as more characters are added.  There are NO TWD SHIPS in this story.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to come up with a snappy title and summary while my husband was yacking in my ear proved to be unsuccessful. Anyway, there was a post on Tumblr by teamcarolbitch which began the creative process of whipping up something magically fantastical between Daryl Dixon and Severus Snape. I requested Thereadersmuse to write up something because the pairing of Daryl and Snape was not something I could pass up, and because she is known for writing amazing fanfiction and unique relationships. She suggested I give it a go to. So here we are! I'm thinking this will be a 2-3 chapter story, but every time I think I have a story mapped it it takes a wildly different turn. Just know there's more to come! :)

There was a distinctive chink, chink, chink sound coming down the stone corridor, purposeful steps and thunk of heavy boots.  Whoever it was, they were making their presence known before they were seen.  The sound stopped when they entered the doorway.  Without looking up from his parchment, he called out to the mystery guest, “Who goes there?”

“Former student of yers, I dare say… your favorite,” came the low gravelly timbre, thick with sarcasm.  Nearly unrecognizable, but with a distinctive twang that told the voice was not from the area.  Snape continued writing out his thought on his parchment before setting the quill down and looking up.  He squinted a glare at the stranger.  The man standing in the doorway was neither tall nor short.  He wore heavy boots with a multitude of buckles, must have been where that metallic clinking sound had come from.  Pants, black as ravens and suggestively scaly.  Dragon skin?  A quiver was strapped snugly to his thigh. A belt slung low on his hips held a sizeable sheathed dagger.  He wore thick homespun woolen shirt torn and frayed at the edges underneath a black leather vest.  The cloak hung from his shoulders fell to the floor billowing out behind him when he walked.  It was leather too, and held in place across his chest with two straps, the collar a cowl of wolf fur and latched with a loop and bear fang tooth.  Dark disheveled hair fell nearly to the shoulders, wisps fringed down across his forehead nearly covering a pair of hooded icy blue eyes.  There was a scar, thick and jagged that ran from his hairline, down to his eyebrow ending blessedly before the lids, and continuing again from cheekbone down to the side of his chin.  

He knew that scar.  It had been an age since he had seen it last.  Memories faint, but sparking, and then the sudden onslaught of thick emotion swelling in his chest.  He cleared his throat before speaking.  “Dixon?”

“One and the same,” the stranger spoke.  “Been a long time… Professor.”  His words were stern, calculated.

“Yes, it has.  So… to what do I owe the great displeasure of your presence at my door?” he sneered, turning up his eyebrow as he stood up from his desk.

“Dumbledore didn’t tell you?”  The man strode into the room, running his finger along the bookshelves, peering up at their towering heights and gazing across the multitude of titles.  

“You must not be his most favored then, I reckon?  Not if he had to call in me.”

“I’m a busy man Daryl…” glared Snape.

“Need a potion, pretty specific.  We’re stepping up defenses, between Dementors gone rogue and breakouts from Azkaban, Dumbledore needs to up the security.”

Snape smiled before letting it turn to a frowning sneer.  “Surely, that is something you could handle yourself, you did graduate from Hogwarts. Yes?”

Daryl’s head cocked to the side, lips upturning in a hateful half smile.  “Maybe if I hadn’t missed out on half a term on account of you, my potions would be up to snuff.  But all that aside,” he thrust a pointed finger at Snape, “you have the rare ingredients needed.  Not exactly stuff you can get at Diagon Alley, and ain’t riskin’ going elsewhere, not with the Ministry up everyone’s asses these days.”

“And I’m just supposed to bend to your will?  Do as I’m told?”  He scoffed, “I don’t think so.”

“If you want to keep your cushy little job terrorizing and warping the minds of students, then yeah… you best help me out.”  Daryl made a subtle gesture toward the scar that graced his face, before running a hand through his hair brushing it from his face, giving Snape the full effect of seeing it in his entirety.

Snapes eyes darkened, and his eyebrows pinched in a deep frown.  Lips downturned, and he looked away.  The scar that ran down Daryl’s face had been Snape’s fault.  He had been a new professor at Hogwarts, with just few years under his belt when Daryl became his student.  It was Snape’s first year teaching Potions, and wanting to move up in the ranks, he had been determined to set an example, his eyes on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.  He knew that was at least a few years off before he’d even be eligible, but being low man on the totem pole meant little respect from the students, and even less from his supposed equals and fellow professors.  He had spent enough years being looked down upon, being made fun of when he was growing up.  As a student, he was regularly bullied and shamed. Determined, he was going to give it his all not to have his teaching experience be the same.

In an effort to make his students more effective, he had worked on a potion that when added by the droplet to their wands, would make them more powerful and their aim true.  Most unfortunate, the plan backfired.  When his back was turned whilst lecturing the class, a student threw something else into the cauldron altering the potion.   Daryl, being a late arrival that day, was thus made the guinea pig for trying out the new potion.  He held out his wand to Snape, who placed one droplet at the tip.  The wand glowed with a blue green shimmering light, and it vibrated within Daryl’s hand.  He gasped, apprehensive, but in a moment the light faded and the buzzing stopped.  Snapes eyes found his, and nodding, prompted Daryl to try out a charm or spell of his choice.  Clearing his throat, he thrust the wand forward toward his textbook, with a firm “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The wand shot out of his hand, pierced the book and went through the desk. Skirting the floor it took off and tore around the room scraping the walls, and the bindings of the books on the shelves.  It blew by the flames from the candle chandeliers above their heads, and shunned into the darkness students covered their heads and hid under their desks.  Snape, wielding his own wand, tried to stop Daryl’s errant one shouting curses that had little effect in slowing it down.

Daryl, wanting to stop the melee too, stood atop his desk hoping to make a grab at it as it whizzed on by.  In an unfortunate confluence of events, Snape had yelled out curses, charms, incantations, spells all in an effort to stop the wand.  His wand aimed at Daryl’s, which was directly in front of his face at that precise moment, a final spell sent Daryl’s spinning in a whirlwind gouging Daryl’s face deeply before exploding into splinters.  Whatever ingredients that were added to the potion altered it in such a way the wound took months to heal and Daryl missed out on half his term.  Try as they might, they couldn’t lessen the scarring either, it was permanent and a daily reminder to Snape of his failure as a teacher until Daryl finished his education at Hogwarts.

“Well then, what is it you require?”

Daryl dug deep within his cloak and pulled out a list of items, and handed it Snape.  Daryl’s fingers grazed his as he grasped the page. Holding the list by the candle, he read off the ingredients to himself.  Lips moving but only air was spent.  His hands shook with the realization of what Daryl had given him.  It was a list of the ingredients he used in his own potion mix that fateful day.  Confused, he looked up at Daryl.

“What is this?” he asked.  “Is this your idea of some sadistic sick joke?”  He crumpled the paper and threw it back at Daryl.  WIth deft hand, he caught the list.  

“Why? What’s the problem?”

Snape scoffed, glaring back at Daryl.  “You really are thick, aren’t you?  Even as a student.  Never listened.  Never put forth much effort. Never did learn how to handle your wand proper or follow simple instruction.  And here you are... back for revenge, are you?”

Daryl stood rubbing his hand over his chin, eyes narrowing as he watched Snape’s verbal tirade.

“Quit running your mouth, Sunshine.  What are you going on about anyhow?  Ain’t making a lick a sense.”

Snape stuttered, and opted to seat himself back at his desk before continuing.

“The items on your list that you’re requesting?  They are one and the same for the very potion that aided in the desecration of your face, Fortis et Verum.”

“Well shit… then I guess I better pray your potion making skills have improved over the past couple decades.”  He sat down at a desk leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head, he pulled his feet up and draped them over the desk in front of him.  

“Hop to, Professor!  Time’s a-wasting!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Snape work together to create the potion. Snape gives him a schooling in proper wand usage, and is later rewarded with meeting Daryl's Hippogriff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned a drawing for further inspiration with this story. I usually have an idea of where I want a story to go, but it almost never goes the way I "plan." So I let this one flow where it may. Please check out the picture on Tumblr,
> 
> http://fandomlifetookmyhandandsaidrun.tumblr.com/post/121116928043/thereadersmuse-themeedes-super-mashup
> 
> Isn't that picture just exquisite?!?!?

With a smug grin he watched as Snape stood from his desk scowling, and turned down one of the many rows of shelving behind him.  With a ladder he made his way down the list gathering Daryl’s ingredients from high and low.  The final ingredient was kept under lock and key, the door to the storage room barred and locked under magical incantation that only Snape’s voice could undo.  Daryl closed his eyes, listening to Snape’s voice as he issued forth the spell in latin to undo the lock.  The groan and creak of metal on metal as the bars pulled back from their locks reverberated in the room.  Snape measured out what was needed, replacing the bottle to it’s proper place on the shelf and left the room.  The door reversing, a clink and groan as the locks went back into place.

Snape stood before his cauldron, pointing his wand at the base, with a quick flick of the wrist he soundlessly started the flames below.  He inhaled deeply, running the back of his hand over his forehead before picking up the first item and dropping it in.  Measuring out the rest of the ingredients, he set them aside ready to be added at precisely the right moment.  

The cauldron began to bubble and boil, the steam and smoke hiding Snape from Daryl’s view.  Curious, he stood.  Walking the edge of the classroom around the rows of desks up to Snape, he peered in.  

“Not a wise move, Dixon.”

“What?  A man can’t be curious?”

“Curious?  If you wish to interrupt, then I can’t be held accountable for repeat performances and further mangling of your face,” he turned to glare at Daryl, hoping the move would put him off.  It didn’t.  Daryl’s eyes held Snape’s, they were an unnerving shade of blue.  Cold as ice, and Snape nearly shuddered as the heat seemed to leave his veins.

“Teach me.”  Two words, that was it.  The low growl of Daryl’s voice sent shivers down Snape’s spine.  He stood elbow to elbow with Snape over the steaming cauldron.  Snape easily could have flicked his wand at Daryl and sent him flying, but there was something holding him back from doing so.  

“Very well, get the Phoenix Feather and drop it in.  Stir it thrice, counterclockwise.”

Reaching past Snape, Daryl pulled a radiant blue feather from the glass jar and dropped it in.  He pulled his wand from his belt, a rather elegant and delicately carved Rowan Wood wand, and stirred the cauldron three times as Snape ordered.

“No, no, no.  Dixon, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“Man, I stirred it three times backwards, just like you said.”

“Is that really how you hold your wand?  For shame, Dixon.  Such a beautiful piece of wood needs to be handled with delicacy and precision. Not manhandled by an oaf.  What is that anyway? Black Walnut?”

Daryl held up the wand between his two pointer fingers for closer inspection by Snape, eyes marveling over the elder man’s admiration of the wand.  

“Rowan wood, lucky 13 inch, core of dragon heart string.”

Snape hummed in appreciation, it was a beautiful instrument.  

“Try subtle.  Don’t just grip it with a firm hand, appreciate the feel of it in your grasp.  Feel the texture of the wood on your fingertips, the cool length of it. The grain of the wood, every knot and vein. Thrust and flick your wrist with meaning, raise your arm like you mean it, cast it out at full length and bring it down again in victory.”

Daryl stared at him, holding the wand by the hilt, running his other hand up and down it’s shaft, thumbing the tip.  He inhaled deeply, and licked his lips, watching as Snape’s eyes widened minutely before narrowing back into his distinctive glare.

“Show me…” Daryl breathed, his voice barely a whisper, swallowing hard.  A pause, and then a single nod, Snape moved to stand behind him. Snape stood with his chest to Daryl’s back, fingertips grazing the length of Daryl’s strong arm down to his wrist.  Placing his hand over Daryl’s, he found he had to lean in further to match him in length of arm.  His lips near Daryl’s ear, Snape could feel the wisps of Daryl’s hair on his face.  Running his fingers out over the top of Daryl’s hand, they nearly interlaced.  

“Bring it back, gentle with the wrist, not stiff.  Keep it fluid. Keep the wand pointed toward your subject for maximum effect at the end of the spell.  Jerking it about every which way… ineffective.”

Daryl nodded slowly, Snape kept his hand on his, stirring the cauldron.  

“Add three drops of Acromantula Venom.”

Dary did as instructed, Snape’s hand over Daryl’s continuing to stir the cauldron.

“...and the Fairy Wings, you’ll need six. Then four drops of Unicorn Blood.”

Daryl could feel Snape’s breath hot against his ear, Snape’s hand over his left his skin with a warm tingling sensation.  If he turned just so, his lips would be in line with Snape’s.  The warmth of his body against his back side was revitalizing in more ways than one.

“You know… I never really blamed you, for what happened that day,” he spoke gently.

Snape stopped, slowly withdrawing his hand from Daryl’s, but remained at his back.

“If I hadn’t tried the potion on your wand…”

“It’s not that,” Daryl interrupted.  “I found out later that some fucker tossed some shit in the pot.”

“Who?”

“S’not important.  But if it makes you feel better, he’s a bottom feeder working the file room at the Ministry.”

He turned slightly, so they were nearly face to face.

“But your scars,” Snape uttered, in question.  “And you were so… difficult, after the incident.”  Snape reached up, tenderly running a single fingertip down Daryl’s face. Daryl closed his eyes, and leaned into his touch when Snape cupped his chin.

“They’re just a part of me.  I was angry then, just being a dick kid.  Because I was different.  I learned it’s okay to be different.  I grew up…”

“Okay to be different,” he mused.  “Hmm, wise words.”

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

Snape took a step away from Daryl, perplexed and wondering.

“We ain’t so different, you and I,” he explained.  “We’re misunderstood.  We see the world differently.  We ain’t them,” gesturing towards the rows of empty seats behind him.

Snape hummed thoughtfully.  There was a truth to Daryl’s words.  The both of them had endured many a hardship over the years, often battling desolate loneliness but not risking the potential hurt and rejection by seeking anyone out.  

“I’ve got my trusted few, that’s plenty good enough for me.”

Snape winced slightly before stepping back away from the cauldron.  A tap of his wand, and the flames went out.  

“How ‘bout you, Professor?” asked Daryl, leaning his backside against the table, and into Snape’s personal space.

“Far too busy for such things.  I busy myself these days with ‘warping young minds,’ as you said.”  With a raised eyebrow and terse expression, Daryl caught the hint, and nodded stepping back.  “Might I ask what you propose to use this potion for?”

Daryl seated himself back at the student’s desks, proper this time.  With hands folded on the desktop, his face fell.  

“There are armies of walking undead, everywhere.  They’ve been seen all over the world.”

Snape scoffed, “Vampires?” He all but snorted, “We know how to handle Vampires, simple stake to the heart.”

“Worse.  Folks die, either natural or they get bit or scratched and their insides burn out.  Well, they don’t stay ‘dead.’  They come back, and they attack the living.”

“So what’s this potion got to do with it?” asked Snape.

“We’re arming the kids.  Their families.  Making sure what they cast is strong, and the aim is true.  Think about them First Years, getting them to use their defenses good and proper?  About as easy as herding chickens, right?”

Snape rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.

“Figure, even if their aim is off. Well, the potion’ll help.  They get their target, and hopefully live to see another day.”

“And Dumbledore needed you to do that?  Some top secret mission?  Hardly so complicated.”

“He didn’t want to use one of his regulars, everyone’s being watched.  Hagrid is borrowing my Astraea for a lesson while I came to chat.”

“Astraea?”

“My Hippogriff.  Tough ole girl.  She gets me where I need to go.”

“They’re hardly the quietest ride, what with the flapping of wings, their hooves, and talons.  Noble creatures, yes. But dreadfully noisy what with their growls and squawking.”

“Pfft. Maybe.  But she’s pretty bad ass.  You ever ridden one?”

Snape rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I’ve more important things to do, Dixon, than go run off to feel the wind in my hair.” He added a hand gesture and flounced his hair with a sneer.

“Good God, man.  Don’t know what yer missing!  Come on, bottle up that potion.  Let’s go.”  Daryl strode to the doorway, and looked back over his shoulder.  Snape was ignoring him, taking his time to bottle of what was in the cauldron.  He placed the stopper securely in the glass vessel, dropped it into a velvet bag and pulled the drawstring closed.

“Come on, man!” Daryl was moments from grabbing Snape’s arms and dragging him down the hall.  In silence they made their way back outside into a large stone courtyard, walking across the flagstones to a set of stairs, which lead down to Hagrid’s hut and to the field beyond where he taught his Magical Creature’s class.  

Snape could hardly keep the gasp to himself, Astraea was a thing of beauty.  Her feathered head was white as pure snow, fading to a dappled gray on her equine rear.  She wore a leather harness strapped to her chest, which held a crossbow on one side and a broadsword on the other.  At the nape of her neck was a pommel, like that of a saddle, for the rider to secure their position.  When she caught sight of Daryl, she let out a blood curdling, ear drum shattering screech.  Clawing and pawing the earth, prancing in tight circles behind Hagrid.  She whipped her tail from side to side, snapping her beak and shoving Hagrid to the side with it.  As Daryl and Snape walked up, Hagrid was finishing up his lesson.

“Settle down, Astraea.  Be a good girl!” ordered Daryl.

They stood quietly by as Hagrid dismissed the students.  A young blonde girl stayed on, however.  She took a few steps closer, and seated herself on the stone wall, wrapping her robes around her tighter to fight off the chill in the air.  Her blonde hair braided at either side and pulled back into a messy ponytail.  She rested her chin into her hand, smiling at Astraea, no fear in her eyes.

Daryl greeted Hagrid, with a firm handshake and pulled him in for a one armed hug.  

“Who’s the girl?  She looks familiar,” he asked.

“That’s Bethy.  Beth.  She’s Luna Lovegood’s girl.  Spittin’ image of her mother with that smile!  Got a soft spot for animals, she does.  Took to your Astraea, and was the only one she’d let near.”

“That’s my girl!” Daryl reached within his cloak and pulled a rabbit from his belt.  He grabbed Snape’s arms, he pulled him forward as they walked toward the Hippogriff.  She pulled back a few steps, squawked and blinked several times.  Daryl turned to Snape, “Bow down with me.”

Together they bowed deeply, Astraea hesitated a moment before reciprocating.  As they stood, Daryl tossed her the rabbit.  She caught it in her mouth, tossed it around, and then swallowed it whole.  She closed the distance between her and her master, dipping down to nuzzle him under the chin and give a fierce eye to the stranger beside him.  Daryl ran his arm down her neck, scratching under her beak and down her throat, and she began to purr.  

“That’s a good girl!” Daryl cooed.  “Big strong broad you are, need a favor.  Give this fella next to me the ride of his life, yea?”

She pulled her head back, eyes flashing between Daryl and Snape.  Raking the ground with her claws, she bobbed her head up and down.  Backing off, she shook her body from head to tail, stretched out her wings and flapped.  Lowering her head, she made towards Snape’s backside, and quick as lightening pushed her head between his legs tossing him up into the air and moving so that he landed on her backside behind the pommel.

“Hold on, Professor!  Astraea, take him away!”  With a shrill squawk, Astraea leapt of the ground, wings flapping hard, she ascended nearly vertically into the air with Snape holding on for dear life, his face the color of her snow white feathers.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with properly naming Daryl's Hippogriff. At one point thinking of naming her after Merle somehow (ew, how awkward!) But I decided to give her a name from mythology, and selected this one thanks to Wikipedia (see below, link to full page is at the bottom. I felt she was a good match for Daryl. Strong, Just, virginal in many ways.
> 
> I'll probably wrap this up in the next chapter, but who knows. And if you're wondering about Beth... yes, that is our Beth Greene. I came across a picture of her and Luna Lovegood on Tumblr a week or so ago, which can be viewed here. I think there is a striking resemblance, and I made her Luna's child for this story. She'll play a very minor role in the next chapter, but since I enjoyed both Beth AND Luna, I at least added Beth to the mix.
> 
> I hope to have another chapter out in a week's time, I'm currently in the final week of a grad school class and am then looking forward to 16 weeks OFF from school so I can focus on and improve my writing. Yes, I am an amateur, and there's ALWAYS room for improvement. That will come with time and practice. Hope you stick around to see what's next! :)
> 
> "Astraea (mythology)  
> From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
> 
> Astrea, the virgin goddess of Innocence and purity, by Salvator Rosa  
> Astraea or Astrea (Ancient Greek: Ἀστραῖα;[1] English translation: "star-maiden"), in ancient Greek religion, was a daughter of Astraeus and Eos. She was the virgin goddess of Innocence and purity and is always associated with the Greek goddess of justice, Dike (daughter of Zeus and Themis and the personification of just judgement). She should not to be confused with Asteria, the goddess of the stars and the daughter of Coeus and Phoebe.
> 
> Astraea, the celestial virgin, was the last of the immortals to live with humans during the Golden Age, one of the old Greek religion's five deteriorating Ages of Man.[2] According to Ovid, Astraea abandoned the earth during the Iron Age.[3] Fleeing from the new wickedness of humanity, she ascended to heaven to become the constellation Virgo. The nearby constellation Libra reflected her symbolic association with Dike, who in Latin culture as Justitia is said to preside over the constellation. In the Tarot, the 8th card, Justice, with a figure of Justitia, can thus be considered related to the figure of Astraea on historical iconographic grounds.
> 
> According to legend, Astraea will one day come back to Earth, bringing with her the return of the utopian Golden Age of which she was the ambassador."  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astraea_(mythology)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape gets the ride of his life!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final chapter. It was a struggle, too many ideas, not enough time, too many distractions, but... I can't leave things hanging, the final installment is below.

Astraea beat her wings with strength and fury as she climbed high and fast with Snape clinging desperately to her back.  She rose nearly to the clouds before levelling out and making a full sweep across the valley. Dipping low over the lake, she snatched an unsuspecting fish in her talons.  The sunlight shimmering off the scales as she tossed it up, and took off upwards catching it in her beak and swallowing it whole.  Flapping her wings harder, she made toward the snow capped mountains.  All the while, Snape kept a white knuckled grip on the pommel, his legs squeezing tightly helping to hold him into place.  Astraea had a keen eye and mind, and knew just how far to twist her body as she moved through the sky so he wouldn’t fall off.  But Snape didn’t know that.  If Daryl could see him now, mouth agape in sheer terror, every so often a yelp or howl if she moved too sudden.  The wind whipping his hair from his face, his robes billowing behind him.  The cool of the air causing him to take deep erratic breaths, near to hyperventilating.  He managed to keep a shaky grasp on the pommel, but when Astraea leveled out over the snowy landscape, he dared to look down.  Watching in awe as their shadow raced over snow, rocks, and low vegetation.  Such power, he could feel the thrust of her wings, every muscle moving and writhing in rhythm with her wings to keep them aloft.  Astraea let out a long shrill shriek, and cocking her head, turned it to the side long enough to glance at him blinking.

The force of the wind pulled his lips and cheeks back from his teeth, jowls flapping like mad, like that of a lap dog with it’s head out the window on a long car ride.    She turned hard, and then dove, back toward the water, Snape rising off her back momentarily and hunkering down and clinging fast.  With both claws, she snatched two more fish in her talons.  With a shriek she turned tail back toward the castle, taking Snape on a more settled ascent circling the spires and towers twice.  She swung low over the courtyard, the flapping of wings sending students nearly to the ground, parchment tossed up and twisting in the tumultuous wind.  

A shrill whistle came from the ground, her head jerked up, and responded with a growling call that rumbled low in her chest but reverberated throughout her body.  The gentle thunder of her wings sent them back over the Whomping Willow tree, before descending gently before Daryl and Hagrid in the meadow where Hagrid lived.  

She bucked her rear gently, encouraging Snape to dismount while she tossed her head and then buried her beak into one of the large fish gripped in her talons.  Snape leaned far forward, shuddering as he pulled a leg back over her, and slid to the ground.  His hands, white and nearly frozen in position from holding the pommel so hard.  He was mildly hunched over, hair awry and completely windblown.  When he realized he had an audience, he stood bolt upright, drew his eyebrows out of his hairline and back down into a disgruntled glare.  He ran his hands down his chest and arms, brushing the dust away and settling his jacket back in place.  He cleared his voice before speaking, “That.  That was…”

“The best ride of your fucking life, amiright?” Daryl interrupted.  Hagrid gasped, and then chuckled.

“Completely unnecessary!” roared Snape.  His eyes narrowing to slits, he glared at Daryl, and walking up to him pointed a finger directly into his chest punctuating each word.  “Try that again Dixon, and I’ll have your hide!”

Daryl couldn’t help himself and broke out into a full belly laugh, it took him a good minute before he was able to collect himself and talk normally.

“Professor, I do apologize.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Not many folks can say they’ve ever ridden a Hippogriff, feeling that level of power between your legs… it’s amazing stuff.”

Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Ain’t no Nimbus 2000, now is it?” Daryl waggled an eyebrow.  Snape rolled his eyes, and sighed.  “Was there a point to your little lesson, Dixon?”

“Sure thing, man.  Live a little.  Don’t be afraid to try something new, won’t break your face to smile every now and then neither.”

“I think I saw him smile,” came a small gentle voice from behind.  Daryl stepped aside to see little Beth Greene walking up.  She had a radiant smile, her cheeks full and pink from the cold, eyes sparkled as she walked up to Snape.  Placing her small hand tenderly on his forearm, she looked up into his face, “Wasn’t that magnificent, Professor?”

Snape snatched his arm back, flaring his nostrils and taking a step away.  Beth followed, “It’s okay, Professor.”  Her voice softened, “I know what kind of man you are. Don’t act like you don’t care about anything.  That made you feel… alive, didn’t it?”  Staring into her pale eyes feeling a bit shocked at her gentle words, he managed a nod.  “Here,” she reached into her robes and pulled out a spoon and a glass jar. “Have a pudding!  It’ll help when you come off that adrenaline rush.”  She dropped it into his hands, and walked over to Daryl.  Snape gave him a confused glance, to which he merely shrugged.  

“Mr. Dixon, would it be okay if I had a minute with Astraea?  She’s beautiful, I’d love to get a closer look if you would both allow it.”

Her eyes were luminous, and when she smiled, her whole face lit up.  Who could resist a smile like that?  He tipped his head in Astraea’s direction, “come with me.”

Together they walked up to the beast.  She was pulling shreds of fish from the two within her talons, her beak snapping before swallowing it down.  She cocked her head letting out a growling purr at her master’s approach.  Daryl pulled another rabbit from his belt within his robe.  “Here,” he handed it to Beth.  “Take a couple steps closer, bow low, and then toss it to her.”

A few tentative steps ahead, and she was nearly armslength away.  She bowed low, Astraea returned it, and Beth tossed the rabbit into the air.  She snapped it up in her beak, and let out a squawk before swallowing it whole.

With a chortling purr she took a step forward, bumping her beak against Beth’s face, sniffing her over checking for treats.  Sensing an innocent entity, she spread her wings and lay herself down in a graceful slump.

“Professor, it’s been a pleasure.”  He clasped Snape’s forearm, and pulled him in for a brief one armed hug.  Not letting go of his arm right away, he pulled back, “If this potion works out… well, I’ll be back for more.  Maybe you can give me another lesson on how to use my wand all good and proper, eh?” He winked, Snape grimaced and rolled his eyes, but his lips upturned ever so slightly, barely noticeable but Daryl caught it.  

“Be good to her,” he gestured to Beth, who was running her fingers through Astraea’s feathers, having found just the spot, Astraea’s lids were half mast and her leg twitched at the effective scratching.  “She’s like her mum, Luna.  Like us, she’s one of us.  Different.”

“I don’t cater to the needs of the… ‘different,’ Dixon.” Snape sneered.

“Oh, come off it man.  Be nice, or I won’t come back.”

With a dramatic sigh and another eye roll, “Very well then.”

Daryl gave Snape a mock salute as he made leave.  

“Are you leaving so soon, Mr. Dixon?” asked Beth, a look of disappointment casting over her eyes.  He nodded.

“Well, I’ll miss this beautiful girl until then.”

“We may be back again before the term is up, maybe even with a surprise.”

“Dare I ask what?” requested Snape.

Daryl leapt up onto Astraea’s back, she stood, eyes flashing and dragging her talons across the ground.  

“You dare.  Hagrid put in a request for a Dragon, I just might have to deliver!” Before anyone could get a protest in edgewise, Astraea was in the air and flying off toward the mountains.  Arm outstretched in a wave, Beth bouncing and giggling and waving furiously back at him.  Hagrid, who had remained quiet, was waving like mad as well and cheering.  Ever excited at the prospect of another magical creature to share with the students.  Snape, with a look of longing, rolled his fingers in a half-hearted attempt at a wave.  

He watched as Daryl disappeared from sight, and with a raised eyebrow, and a knowing smirk, made his way back to his classroom.  Daryl would be back again soon, he just knew it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 1000% happy with how this story turned out. Why? I hate having too many works in progress, and this one... it is SOOOOOOOOOO worthy of more chapters. Even with a teensy tiny following, there's far more that can be told here. So, when the mood suits me, and the muse strikes, I'll turn this into a series and add some more. Maybe I'll do some oneshots. Drabbles. Something, anything, all I know is there needs to be MORE. Yes?

**Author's Note:**

> I will update the tags and summary to better suit the story as the chapters get added. I'm currently juggling several different stories, college courses, kids, etc. but hope to have the next chapter up very soon! 
> 
> I will leave you with this preview for Chapter 2:
> 
> “Try subtle. Don’t just grip it with a firm hand, appreciate the feel of it in your grasp. Feel the texture of the wood on your fingertips, the cool length of it. The grain of the wood, every knot and vein. Thrust and flick your wrist with meaning, raise your arm like you mean it, cast it out at full length and bring it down again in victory.”
> 
> And also, Daryl has a Hippogriff. Any suggestions on a name for his creature?


End file.
